


Reminiscence

by Secret_ninja1



Series: Secret Santa JG [1]
Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, the last two characters are just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_ninja1/pseuds/Secret_ninja1
Summary: It seemed ridiculous, he knew, but his fear stemmed from something in the past that he could never forget.
Even if Miyoshi was the one who couldn't remember.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Serie7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie7/gifts).



> This was a secret santa present for realm-of-fantasies on tumblr, aka, Serie7! I thought it would be easier to read on ao3 instead of my blog, so I'm including my presents on here.

Sakuma should have trusted the feeling in his gut that morning.

He knew something was wrong when he watched Miyoshi leave, the unmistakable trace of a smile gracing his lips. Sakuma knew he was excited to attend his first high school reunion, but something just felt off about his departure.

Sakuma never had time to dwell on his feelings when he remembered he was going to be late for work if he stood in the living room any longer. With a sigh, he snatched the keys from the kitchen table, double-checked his cell phone for the time, and headed out the door.

* * *

 

_"Are you sure you don't want to take the car?"_

_They were seated on the couch, the television background noise as they sat close and shared the cramped space like they always did in the evenings._

_"I'm sure. The Transit will be faster than the roads and I want to be there early."_

_Sakuma ran his fingers through Miyoshi's hair, careful not to mess it up. He leaned closer and kissed the top of his head, his eyes closing. "I would just feel safer if we switched tomorrow. I can walk to work."_

_"Did you know," Miyoshi started, "that over one million people die in automobile accidents every year?"_

_"I did not." Sakuma knew better than to argue with Miyoshi over something like this, whether he knew it was true or not._

_"And did you know that approximately six hundred people die in train accidents a year?" Miyoshi turned to look at him from the corner of his eye, both enjoying the attention and teasing Sakuma with facts. "I don't know about you, but that sounds far less dangerous than traveling by car."_

_"I know, Miyoshi." Sakuma really did know, but the nagging feeling in his head would never go away, no matter how many times Miyoshi unintentionally reassured him of his fear. "It's just that-"_

_"-Trains are crowded and tickets are expensive," Miyoshi finished for him._

_Sakuma couldn't help but smile anyway when he leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."_

* * *

 

Sakuma's hands were typing over his keyboard, scheduling appointments for his boss and managing emails that were being sent to the company from investors and other employees. The work load should have been fine, but Sakuma's mind had wandered to Miyoshi more than usual. He couldn't focus, but his body was fulfilling his tasks without the use of his brain, it seemed.

Still, he couldn't get past the idea of Miyoshi taking the Transit. It was not the first time he had rode a train before, but ever since they were married, Sakuma all but forbid his husband from using them.

It seemed ridiculous, he knew, but his fear stemmed from something in the past that he could never forget.

Even if Miyoshi was the one who couldn't remember.

“Sakuma.”

Sakuma snapped his head up to see his boss standing by his desk, his brows furrowed as they usually were. He always wondered if they were the cause of all his wrinkles. “Yes, sir?”

“I want you to fit a meeting into my schedule with Kazato before lunch.”

Sakuma was already typing it down. “Does ten thirty sound fine?”

Muto only waved him off and went back into his office, but it was enough for Sakuma to know he approved. His boss was short-tempered and stern, but he hardly gave Sakuma any trouble.

He was back to his emails as soon as Muto shut the door. As always, Sakuma remained formal and professional dealing with questions about the company and the recent complaints people have had due to buying a defective product. Sakuma sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, already feeling a headache coming on.

It wasn’t because of the complaints, but rather the bright computer screen he had been relentlessly staring at since he arrived at work. He got headaches from staring too long, but usually they struck later in the day. Sakuma wasn’t sure why he was getting one now.

_I should text Miyoshi and see how he’s doing._

He was quick to pull out his phone and find Miyoshi’s name in his contacts, shooting a text asking if he was alright. Knowing him, he’d probably reply immediately and tell him not to worry about him; he’d give himself wrinkles.

_You’d end up looking like your boss._

Sakuma laughed to himself and set his phone down on his desk, returning to his work until he would feel his phone vibrate with an alert.

It wasn’t long before he finished replying to an email, but Miyoshi still hadn’t texted him back. He checked his phone in case he missed it go off, but there was no response yet. Sakuma thought that maybe Miyoshi was reading on the train, but he would have at least checked his phone.

Feeling a little uneasy, Sakuma sent another text to follow up on his last one, telling him that he missed him. If he guilt-tripped him enough, Miyoshi would have to answer back. It was something he learned about Miyoshi in their relationship. He never abused his discovery, but he felt that now was a good time to use it.

A glimpse of the old Miyoshi came into his head then. A vivid image of a confident smirk and piercing eyes that seemed to keep hold of him whenever he met them. A taunting, playful voice that was both smooth and condescending all at once. The smell of cigarette smoke that always hung in the air around them.

The idea of that Miyoshi getting so easily guilt-tripped was rather ridiculous, but he supposed his alias’ personality wouldn’t have had such traits if he was meant to be so poised and sharp.

That wasn’t the Miyoshi he fell in love with, anyway. He preferred the Miyoshi that secretly snorted at his bad jokes at dinner. Or the Miyoshi that would lock himself out of the house because he would always leave his keys on the bedroom dresser. His real personality was far better than the fake one Yuuki had created all those years ago.

When he found out that Miyoshi never remembered anything from the past, Sakuma had decided to keep it from him. It was more for Sakuma’s own good than Miyoshi’s, but he liked to believe he was doing his husband a favor by keeping their past life a secret. He didn’t want him recalling his spy training or the harsh conditions that came with the job.

The sound of his phone ringing pulled Sakuma from his thoughts and he reached to pick it up, eager to see if it was Miyoshi. He paused before answering when he saw it was an unknown number calling. The sight didn’t settle well with him. “Hello?”

_“Mr. Tomokazu?”_

“You’re speaking with him.” Sakuma wasn’t sure what to make of the woman calling, but her voice was oddly flat. “Can I help you with anything?”

_“I’m calling about your husband.”_

Sakuma’s eyes were steady on his desk, listening to the woman speak.

_“There’s been a train accident…”_

* * *

 

Miyoshi felt like he was swimming. The image of his body floating in the ocean, his head lolled back and hair submerged in the water.

The motion connected with his real body and his skull suddenly felt so full of lead. He tried to groan in pain, but his lips felt dry and his throat only made silence.

Blinking hurt.

He felt sick.

Where was he?

The white ceiling blinded him, but he couldn’t turn his head away. The lights were bright, the room smelled funny. All this white reminded him of snow.

_Snow._

Miyoshi’s body jerked and he was suddenly sitting up, a sharp ringing in his ears filling his senses and his head was throbbing like his brain was splitting open. He wanted to scream and lash out at the pain, but his eyes were steadily gaining focus on the white sheets covering his body. His vision was clearing.

He looked down at his chest. He was wearing a white gown, the printed dots on the fabric making him dizzy. He willed himself to move his hand and remove the gown to check his injuries, but something was preventing him. He knew part of the reason was his impaired motor skills, but something made him turn to look, as if he knew the cause of it was next to him.

A mop of messy dark hair and a tan hand over his was enough for him to identify his problem.

Mentally, Miyoshi panicked, and his eyes grew wide. He tried to speak again, to get his attention, and the words in his mind were slow. He was parched and his voice was hoarse, but something akin to the man’s name came out. He pushed his captured hand to move, his numb fingers twitching until he was finally able to wake the one beside him.

The head stirred as Sakuma began to rouse, the corners of his eyes red and puffy and it give away signs of recent tears. Sakuma’s drowsy state was erased the moment his red eyes fell on him and Miyoshi wasn’t sure what to make of his presence. “You’re awake.”

Sakuma’s mouth was open, his lips parted as he continued to stare at Miyoshi like his prayers had been answered. He leaned closer, his eyes searching his face and landing on his forehead, staring at wherever was there. His warm hands were suddenly around his cheeks, cupping his face gently and rubbing his thumb just under his cheekbone.

Miyoshi wanted to move away from the touch, the gesture odd but familiar to his body. He didn’t remember ever being held this way by Sakuma before, and his attendance at his bedside was already enough to warrant suspicion. Instead of fighting his urge, Miyoshi focused all he could on speaking. “… What are you doing… here?”

Sakuma hadn’t appeared to be listening, his eyes still settled on his forehead, but he managed to reply. “The hospital called me and said you were in a train wreck.” He paused, his attention finally back on Miyoshi again. The look on his face was something Miyoshi realized he never wanted to see on him again. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you again.”

“… Again?” Sakuma would have no reason to fret over what happened to him. They were barely even considered acquaintances before Sakuma had left for the military to fight. He was sent on his mission shortly after.

_His mission._

Miyoshi looked around, the task difficult with Sakuma’s hands still cradling his face, but there was no sign of who he was searching for. Sakuma shouldn’t have been here, no one should have. Sakuma was not given information about his location and the hospital sure as hell wouldn’t have called _him_ of all people to reveal his condition.

“Where… is Yuuki?” If his presence here meant anything, it was that Yuuki either told him what happened and was nearby, or that he was somehow not in Germany at the moment. Whichever it was, it meant that his cover wasn’t needed since Sakuma had addressed him by his spy alias.

Something flickered in Sakuma’s eyes, his features tight like he had hit him. It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Instead of answer his question, Sakuma seemed to let his hands linger on his face before he withdrew them and set them over his own hand again. He remained silent.

“Sakuma…” Miyoshi was beginning to lose patience, but his injuries were making it difficult for him to express his frustration. “Answer me.” Yuuki’s whereabouts were important and if Sakuma knew anything, he needed to tell him. He met with him shortly before he departed for Berlin…

How was he alive?

He suddenly remembered why he had awoken Sakuma in the first place, Miyoshi struggling to free his hand once more to inspect his body for severe injuries. He should have had a gaping wound in his chest. He should have been dead, damn it.

He slipped his hand away and tugged at his hospital gown, trying to feel for any tender places that may have indicated where he was struck. He was struggling to grasp the fabric correctly and Sakuma was watching, but he couldn’t bring himself to care before he tugged the collar down and angled his head to peek at his chest.

There was nothing.

“Miyoshi?”

Not a single gash or stitch marred his skin outside of petty cuts and bruises that probably formed from the impact of the wreck. There should have been something there. His right side—a hole—!

“Be careful,” Sakuma’s voice was suddenly by his ear and Miyoshi wanted to crawl away and lean into him all at once. His hands were moving back to touch him again, and Miyoshi caught a glimpse of something gold on Sakuma’s left hand. “The doctor said you can’t make any sudden movements. Too much and your concussion could worsen.”

“… Concussion?” Miyoshi wanted to laugh.

Sakuma didn’t find it as amusing as he did. “He said you were lucky. A few people died from the crash, but a lot of people were seriously injured. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I was scared.”

Sakuma turned his eyes away and stared down at the bed, his hand moving to hold Miyoshi’s, his fingers intertwining with his. “I was afraid fate was going to repeat itself. I didn’t want to lose you without at least apologizing.” Sakuma lifted his head up to look at him again, his eyes glossy with renewed tears. He took a breath in and gently squeezed Miyoshi’s hand.

“You died almost eighty years ago.”

Miyoshi must have done something to betray his thoughts because Sakuma was quick to comfort him with his free hand, callused fingers running through his hair in a way that Miyoshi should have been defensive about. The motion was careful, however, as if he was wary of brushing a single lock out of place. His hair was probably a mess already.

A sigh came from Sakuma before he continued. “You remember now, right? Yuuki’s name tipped me off.” Sakuma had never run into anyone who looked like the Yuuki he knew all those years ago, so it was safe to say Miyoshi probably hadn’t either. He never wanted to tell Miyoshi anything that would have made him recall his past, but now he really didn’t have a choice. The least he could do was clear up any confusion he had about his memories. “I’m sorry I never told you before. I wasn’t given any details about it, but Yuuki had informed me that you were on a mission and a train accident was the cause of your death. He didn’t say much else.”

Sakuma rubbed his thumb across his scalp where Miyoshi’s hair parted, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “I know we hardly got along when I lived with you all, but the news devastated me. It was the same as losing a friend. I couldn’t help it.” A flicker of a smile came to Sakuma’s lips, but it never lasted more than a moment before it disappeared. “Five years later, I was sent to fight in Okinawa and I was gunned down by U.S. forces. I knew I wasn’t going to survive. Our losses were so great and I didn’t have much left to fight for.”

The hand in his hair dropped down to his face once again and Miyoshi didn’t bother fighting it this time. Something cold was touching his cheek and his eyes flickered from Sakuma to his left hand to inspect it. When that gold gleam caught his sight again, Miyoshi reached to pull Sakuma’s hand away gently and held it in front of him. A gold wedding band was around Sakuma’s ring finger, the design simple but classy.

“Oh,” Sakuma watched him examine the ring before his other hand reached into his pocket for something. “I almost forgot I had it.”

Miyoshi didn’t want to find out what he was talking about. He was confused and the information Sakuma was blabbing on about didn’t make any sense.

Sakuma leaned forward and moved to grab Miyoshi’s left hand from the other side of the bed, the man slipping a smaller gold band onto his finger that matched Sakuma’s. “The doctor said he took it off before they put you through a scanner. He was worried someone might have tried to steal it so he kept it on him before I got here.” Sakuma sighed and admired the ring on his finger before letting his hand go and setting it on Miyoshi’s lap.

Something warm settled in Miyoshi’s stomach that made him feel sick. He wasn’t sure where it suddenly came from and he wasn’t sure how well his body would hold out if he lost whatever was in his stomach.

An image of Sakuma crossed his mind. It was brief, but he could see that he wasn’t wearing his regular three-piece suit. The suit was black and he was smiling, then someone running towards them with cake. Miyoshi groaned, his head throbbing at the blurry memory. Why was Kaminaga throwing cake?

The words were spoken aloud, it seemed, because Sakuma was closer to him again and the comforting gestures were back. “You were going to see him on your trip.” He wasn’t sure where cake had come from, but he was sure Miyoshi was probably worried about Kaminaga. Most likely because he was now stuck in a hospital bed. “I’ll call him and let him know what happened. I’m sure he’s worried about you, too, for not showing up.” Word about the train accident probably spread already, so it was only a matter of time before the others would contact him.

Miyoshi shook his head gently, careful of his injury. He wasn’t going to see Kaminaga. He was returning to his apartment. Why was Sakuma saying these things? Was this just supposed to be another cover for him? He was spouting nonsense.

“I’m not sure if it’s your concussion or the fact that you’ve been through another accident that’s triggered your memory, but I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you.” Sakuma kissed his forehead gently and sat back with a soft smile. “You’ll be out of commission for a while, so I’ll be taking some days off to keep you company. I’ll even pick up some ice cream on the way home for you.”

“Why?”

Sakuma hummed, looking at him with a quizzical expression. “I’m your husband, I’m supposed to spoil you.”

Miyoshi’s mind froze. Little pieces were fitting together into one picture. He wasn’t sure what was going on but he hit his head on the train window when he was jerked out of his seat, his high school reunion was starting in an hour, and Miyoshi’s favorite flavor of ice cream was vanilla.

“You’re my husband.”

The words left Miyoshi before he could even completely register them, and Sakuma seemed fazed by the statement. “Of course I am.” He gave a nervous smile, but it didn’t last long. “Are you alright, Miyoshi?” He was ready to call the doctor back if he was experiencing any other symptoms of his head injury.

Miyoshi was almost curling in on himself, his head tucked and his eyes were barely meeting Sakuma’s. He had a sickening feeling that this wasn’t some cover story. Sakuma was too honest of a person and had blatantly denied Yuuki’s offer before he supposedly died in battle. The evidence Miyoshi had of his own condition in Germany meant certain death. No one could have survived an injury of that degree without immediate medical attention, and Miyoshi knew he never made it.

Now he was awake in a hospital room with Sakuma fretting over him like some doting husband. No, he _was_ a doting husband. Their matching rings, Sakuma’s distraught behavior towards him and his concussion, and his lack of competence were all proof that this wasn’t just some staged backstory created by his spy master. His own feelings about Sakuma were being reciprocated and his body was so familiar with his touch, for a moment he believed that he was dreaming.

The pain in his head, however, proved that theory wrong.

Miyoshi flinched as his head throbbed again and he cradled it in his hands, leaning down so he wouldn’t have to reach far.

Sakuma stood and leaned over to rub his back. “I think the pain medicine is wearing off. I’ll go and get a nurse—”

Sakuma moved to turn and find the nearest help, but the hand on his sleeve prevented him from walking away. It was weak, but the fingers curled around the cuff of his shirt kept him grounded. “Miyoshi?”

The man in question only shook his head, unable to lift his head to look at him. He dropped his hand and let it fall to his side, his eyes squeezed shut to keep the pain at bay while he sorted out his thoughts.

Sakuma was his husband. They were married and Sakuma clearly loved him.

“I’m fine.” Miyoshi breathed slowly. “I’m just tired.” It was a lie and he knew Sakuma could see through it, but he couldn’t deal with another person in the room at the moment.

“Are you sure?”

Whatever was happening, Miyoshi knew one thing: he didn’t want to see Sakuma hurt again. His memory of their life together was in fragments. The news of his memory loss would devastate him.

It would have been better if Sakuma never found out.

“I’m sure.” Miyoshi did what he could to look up and see Sakuma staring at him, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I just… want you to be here with me.”

“I’m here for you. I promise.” Sakuma settled back into his seat and took Miyoshi’s hand once more, trying to soothe his aches as best he could. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Miyoshi returned the gesture by gripping his hand as best he could. He forced a smile through the pain and leaned back against the hospital bed. “Thank you.”

Sakuma shook his head and kissed the top of his hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles in the way he knew Miyoshi liked. “You would do the same for me.” It was true because Miyoshi never failed to comfort him when he was stressed. Asking a simple request like this was never a burden. The very least he could do for Miyoshi was stay while he needed him.

His reassurance gave Miyoshi hope. As he closed his eyes, he prepared himself to sleep once more, if only to dull the pain before a nurse would check up on him and force Sakuma to leave. For now, he would allow himself this moment of peace with his husband and let himself dream. “I love you, Sakuma.”

He felt the thumb on his hand pause before the sound of clothes rustling followed. The sudden sensation of gentle pressure on his forehead was enough for Miyoshi to visualize Sakuma hovering over him and kissing his head. Another action that was foreign yet so familiar.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
